Quake
by idrylla
Summary: An earthquake at a party injures Charley and the Doctor. He does his best to patch her up and finds himself struggling with his feelings for her. It's a route he should never even look down, much less walk.


It was a nice party. A royal party on a lovely, peaceful planet called Cordell III. Charley was dressed to the nines in a blue satin dress, white satin gloves and small blue jewels in her hair. The Doctor had changed his green coat for a blue one that looked well with Charley's dress. They had danced. Charley was a very good dancer, but that was hardly surprising. She was from a well-to-do family. She and her sisters had all had dance classes and had been trained to fit into society. Charley blended in easily with the lords and ladies of the court. She was mingling with several people on one side of the room and the Doctor was on the other side talking with a family of small, blue Poxuges, a native race to Cordell III.

All at once, the ornamental cage of exotic birds began to squawk excitedly. Then the ground began to rumble. As soon the ground started to shake, Charley and the Doctor ran for each other, but the shaking ground broke a pipe and there was a great explosion. The Doctor was sent flying backwards. His shoulder took the worst of the fall. He quickly curled up into a ball as debris fell around him. It was less than thirty seconds later that the shaking stopped, although it felt much, much longer. The Doctor stood up and looked around for Charley, but it was impossible to see anything. There was so much dust in the air.

"Charley! Charley!" he called out.

He heard a faint noise and moved towards it. He pulled away at the wall and ceiling that had collapsed on top of the person under there. He quickly realized it was not Charley he was uncovering. He continued to dig until the blue male Poxuge he had been chatting with earlier was free.

"My unit!" it squeaked. It began to dig back into the rubble. The Doctor helped, but he wanted to go find Charley. Within minutes, the rest of the Poxuge family had been uncovered. Two of them were dead.

The Doctor hopped up, scanning the room. Some of the dust had settled and he could see a little more. He saw a young woman doing her best to extract herself from a pile of rubble. The Doctor made his way to her and helped her to remove the rocks pinning her down. He recognized the young woman as someone he had seen Charley talking to just before the quake. She had to be close by.

"Charley!" he called out again.

"There, sir," the woman said. She was pointing out into the rubble. The Doctor looked and saw a bit of blue fabric peeking out between rocks.

He climbed to the bit of blue and he started to dig. He tossed rock after rock out of his way and slowly Charley's body began to appear. She didn't move. Blood trickled from a large cut on her head. He untied his cravat and wrapped it around Charley's head. He wasn't sure if she was alive and he was afraid to find out. Tentatively, he reached out his hand and felt at her neck. He breathed a sigh of relief. There was a light pulse.

He ran his hands over her legs and arms, checking for noticeable injuries. There was nothing he could see to give him concern, but who knew what internal injuries there might be. He gently picked her up and carried her in the direction of his TARDIS. It wasn't far, but the rubble and debris on the floor made the short distance very difficult to cover. He tripped once and landed hard on his right knee. When he finally entered the TARDIS, he ran has fast as he was able to the medical bay.

He laid Charley flat on the table and flipped on the scanner. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until his respiratory by-pass kicked in. The scans showed several cracked ribs, a broken arm and a concussion. He set to work, patching her up. He set the broken arm first and covered it in a brace. Then he cut away the blue dress until Charley was in her slip. He tied bandages tightly around her ribs. He finally set to work on her head. The gash wasn't as large as it seemed and thankfully wasn't too deep. The laser set on low power took care of the cut. He bandaged it up and lifted her eye lids to look at her eyes. They looked normal. The bruise on her face would provide her with a spectacular black eye, but that would heal without worry. He would just have to wait until she woke up to see how much damage had really been done. Finally he stuck an IV into her uninjured arm to keep her body hydrated and he covered her with a warm blanket.

With Charley taken care of, his own body remembered its injuries. His shoulder and knee were painful, but nothing was broken. He had several cuts on his body and he was sporting some massive bruises, but otherwise was fine. He'd be stiff for a few days, though. He went to the console room and put the TARDIS into the safely of the vortex. After a quick trip to the kitchen, the Doctor returned to the medical bay with a pot of tea. He pulled up a chair and sat down.

Charley looked a right mess. Her hair was matted with blood and the only color in her face were the bruises. The scanner showed her breathing was shallow. He placed an oxygen mask over her face. He sipped at his hot tea and waited. His eyes alternated from the scanner readings to Charley's pale face. The cup in his hand began to shake on its saucer. His entire body began to shake. He quickly set the saucer down and put his head into his hands. He cried silently, his shoulders shaking as sobs racked through his body. He had almost lost his Charley and he still wasn't sure what kind of condition her mind would be in when she woke up. If she woke up. No, Doctor, no, he scolded himself. Not if she woke up, she _would_ wake up.

His mind began to look back on all of his companions. Considering the number of people he had had in the TARDIS with him over the years and the number of perilous scrapes they had gotten into, very few of them had died, but one death was too many. He had died several times to save his companions and he was glad to give his life for his friends. He would do it for Charley, if it were ever necessary.

His head snapped up at the sound of a quiet moan. He wiped the tears from his face and dimmed the lights in the room so they wouldn't hurt her eyes. He watched her carefully. Her eyes blinked and stared blankly for a moment. She turned her head and looked at him. Her eyes slid into focus.

"Doctor?" Her voice was dry.

"Yes, Charley, I'm here and your safe in the TARDIS."

She tried to move but immediately closed her eyes and whimpered in pain.

"Don't move, Charley. You've got a few broken bones."

Her eyes flew open. "Broken?" she mumbled.

"Yes, but I've set the bones. You'll heal just fine. For now, just stay still. Do you understand?" He was concerned about any brain damage.

Charley nodded her head, but whimpered in pain again. This time a tear fell from one eye.

"You in pain?"

"Yes," she whispered.

He took a syringe and filled it with a clear liquid. "A small prick, alright?"

"Yes."

He carefully put the needle into her arm. Another tear fell from her eye. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears. "Rest now. I'll stay right here." He took her hand and held it, feeling her lightly squeeze his hand.

Her eyes closed and her breathing became regular again. He continued to hold her hand. Tears fell from his eyes as he sat with his brave Charley. His shoulder ached. He ignored it. His knee ached. He ignored it. His hearts ached, but he could not ignore them. Memories kept springing up. His family, his companions. They were all there, in his mind, pulling at his hearts. He wept. He did not see Charley open her eyes to watch him. He did not see the tears she shed for him. They both finally slept.

When the Doctor woke up, he was so stiff and sore, it was hard to move. Charley's eyes were closed. He scanned her again. There wasn't much difference. It looked as if her broken arm was set properly. Her brain function was better than the first scan had shown. Still, he was unsure if she would truly be alright.

He reached for the pot of tea. It was stone cold. He didn't want to leave her in case she woke up again, but he did want some tea. He whispered to her, "I'm going to make a new pot of tea, Charley. I'll be right back."

When he returned with the fresh pot, he was surprised to see Charley's eyes wide open. "Charley, are you alright? I promise, I only left for a few minutes to get tea." He set the pot down on the counter.

Under the oxygen mask, Charley smiled. With her uninjured arm, she gently began to take off the mask. The Doctor rushed to her side and helped her remove the mask.

"I know you went for tea. I heard you tell me just before you left," she said. She smiled at him. She had an incredible black eye, the scar from the cut on her head was still red and tender, and her hair was full of dried blood, but at that moment, the Doctor thought Charley had never looked better. She was awake, smiling, had heard and understood him when he spoke and she replied back in a full, complete, coherent sentence.

"Any chance on getting this thing out of my arm?" she asked referring to the IV.

"Not yet, but soon," he promised. "How are you feeling?"

"I hurt, but not nearly as badly as I did last night, or whenever it was you brought me in here." Charley didn't move her body at all, but her voice sounded quite normal.

"Good. You're going to have to keep still for a while. You've got a broken arm and three broken ribs. You also got hit pretty hard in the head, so your head is going to hurt for a while, but you should make a full recovery."

"Are you alright Doctor?"

"Dear Charley, asking after me when you are the one hurt. Yes, I'm fine. A bit bruised, but otherwise alright."

"But are you really alright?" she looked into his face. He frowned and Charley was once again reminded of how old the Doctor actually was. "You were crying. I've never seen you cry before."

The Doctor blushed. "Yes, well, it's not an activity I often engage in." He became very busy checking her IV.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about Doctor. You know me. I rarely cry myself, but once in a while a good cry is called for. It releases all the tension and emotions that have been building. I don't do it often, but I always feel better after a good cry."

The Doctor blushed again, "Thank you."

She was quiet. She could see he had something on his mind, so she waited for him to talk. She knew he would in his own due time. He stood up and began pacing the room. Charley tried to watch him, but her head hurt every time she moved it, so she laid there and waited for him to speak.

"I was so worried about you. Your body was hurt, but that I can mend. I was worried that you would wake up and not know who you were or who I am. I've had that happen to me before, several times actually, and it's such a terrible feeling, not knowing who you are, but even worse, I was worried you wouldn't wake up at all. Nothing would be more terrible than that."

"Doctor, can you please stop pacing? Your making my head swim." Charley smiled.

He stopped immediately. "I'm sorry."

"Come and sit down. Hold my hand, would you?" Charley asked.

He did and took her warm hand into his cool one.

"Doctor, I'm fine. I'm going to be just fine. Nothing about this was your fault, unless you made the ground shake. Did you do that?"

"Of course not," he looked offended.

"I know you didn't," she smiled at him. "Thank you for rescuing me and mending me. Thank you for taking me to that lovely party. I was enjoying myself so much. There were such interesting people to talk to and dancing with you was so much fun. You're a very good dancer, Doctor, did you know?"

"I was only trying to keep up with you, Miss Pollard."

Charley squeezed the Doctor's hand. "Now, how long do I have to stay here? This really isn't the most comfortable bed."

"I'll get you moved to your room soon, but I really don't want you up and about for a few days."

"A few days? Doctor, how will I survive?"

"Have you ever watched television?"

"No. Is it like going to the cinema?"

"In its way. I think you will be quite entertained by it."

Charley smiled. "I've only been to the cinema once. It was very exciting."

"I've got some movies I think you will love. Now, first things first. Charley, your hair is covered in blood and dirt. How about I wash it for you?"

"You want to wash my hair?"

"Yes, if that's alright."

"I would like that."

The Doctor hopped up out of his chair. He pulled out a bucket from under Charley's bed and he filled it with hot water. He opened a few cupboards before finding what he was looking for. Charley watched him in great amusement.

When he had everything he wanted, he went to the side of the bed where Charley's head was. "I'm going to pull you back a bit. You don't need to try and help me move you. I think it will hurt if you do." He gently placed his hands on her upper arms and pulled her until her head was at the edge of the bed.

Charley squeezed her eyes shut. As gentle as he was, it hurt to move.

"Are you alright?" he asked, seeing the look on her face.

"I'm fine Doctor. The pain has passed."

He wasn't too convinced. "If I hurt you again, just tell me. I'm going to be as gentle as I can."

"I trust you," she said.

The Doctor took her hair and pulled it over the side of the bed. He took a cup of the hot water and gently poured it on her hair. Red water spilled into another bucket he had placed to catch the water. He poured more water onto her head. Charley sighed.

"Alright?" he asked.

"Mmm." Charley hummed, her eyes closed. "The hot water feels good."

He took the shampoo and poured some into his hands. He worked his hands into her hair and then onto her head. He took great care not to touch the healing head wound. He lathered her hair until it was nothing but white bubbles. It was strange to touch Charley like this. It was just her hair and she couldn't do it herself. He was just helping her out, being a friend. That's all. Right? It's just her hair, he told himself. So why did it feel so intimate?

"You look like a snowman," he told her.

She chuckled, but kept her eyes closed. Her lips were in a small smile.

"I haven't hurt you have I?" he asked.

"Not at all."

He used the cup and began to pour water into her hair again, washing out all the bubbles, blood and dirt. When the water ran clear, he unfolded a fluffy white towel and patted her hair, then he wrapped it around her head.

"All clean," he announced.

"Thank you," she smiled. "I do feel better."

"Are you ready to go to your room?"

Charley sighed. "Yes, I suppose so."

The Doctor pulled up the brake on the table and pushed it from the medical bay to the hall. Charley's face was red.

"I feel so silly. Being wheeled around like this. I don't like being an invalid."

"You're not an invalid. If you wanted, you could walk, but I wouldn't recommend that just yet. Don't feel silly. Let me take care of you."

He found her room and wheeled the bed right next to hers. He pulled the blankets down on her bed, then he removed the blanket from her body.

"Doctor!" Charley yelled. Her uninjured arm grabbed for the blanket. "I'm only in my slip!"

"I know. I'm sorry, but I had to cut the dress away to bandage your ribs. Now, stop fussing." He gently moved her to her bed. She whimpered involuntarily. He hurt her and he felt terrible. Once she was settled, he pulled her blankets up to her chin. "Now, is there anything you need? Are you hungry? Do you want a book? Some tea? I can go get that television and some movies. What do you need?"

Charley wouldn't look him in the face. "It doesn't matter. Whatever you want to do."

"Charley?" He was hurt. Had he hurt her so badly when he moved her that she wouldn't talk to him? "Charley, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing. A book. Yes, a book and tea would be nice." Charley spoke quickly and still wouldn't look at him.

"Are you upset because I saw you in your slip?"

A tear trickled from Charley's eye. She quickly wiped it away. "Yes."

He sat down on the bed next to her and took her hand. He pushed her wet hair back away from her face. "You've nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me, I've seen more of the human female body than that."

Charley's head whipped around to looked at him. She was shocked.

"No, no, Charley. That's not what I meant," he quickly said, understanding how awful what he had just said sounded. "See, I've had other people travel in the TARDIS with me. One of my companions, her name was Leela, she was from a very primitive human society. She wore an outfit like you might see in Tarzan. Lots of leg, lots of arm and lots of back showing. And another one of my friends, she was from a much later decade on Earth than you. The style women wear in that decade is quite different. There was a lot of," he paused turning a light shade of pink. How could he describe Peri's outfit's to Charley? "Well, that decade, clothing showed a lot more cleavage." He blushed a deeper shade of red.

Charley got over her shock and chuckled to see the Doctor turn so red. "I understand what you're saying. We've been to several places where cleavage was quite popular in style. That party we were just at, for example. Did you see the woman I was talked with right before the quake? Her dress showed quite a lot."

"I didn't notice," the Doctor quickly said.

"Well, I'm from a time period of modesty, so you will forgive me if I feel embarrassed about having you, my best friend, see me in my underclothes."

"Of course. But you have to remember, I'm a doctor and I was doing what I had to do to save your life. Really, it would have been better for your ribs if I could have bandaged them without clothes in the way, but I knew you would never have that."

This time Charley blushed. "Thank you," she whispered. She squeezed his hand. "Now Doctor, I really am interested in this television you mentioned."

He smiled one of his biggest smiles. "I'll be right back." He jumped up and ran from the room. Charley adjusted her blanket to keep her arms free, but most of the rest of her body covered. It was only a short time before the Doctor returned, wheeling in a large squared box on a tall table.

"Now, let's see. We've got Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, some Charlie Chaplin, Robin Hood with Errol Flynn, that's a good one, or a comedy called Bringing Up Baby, all from the 1930's. What do you want to watch first?"

Charley had the Doctor pick. He tried a Charlie Chaplin, but laughing hurt Charley's ribs too much, so they switched to Robin Hood. Charley was very impressed with the Technicolor and thought the handsome actor playing Robin Hood to be simply divine. They paused during the movie to have some food and when the movie was over, Charley declared herself to be in quite a bit of pain. The Doctor gave her another round of pain medicine and she became very sleepy.

"Do you want me to sit with you?" he asked as her eyes began to close.

"You don't need to, Doctor. I'll be fine, but you are welcomed to stay. Just check on me once in a while." She slipped into sleep.

The Doctor sat with her for a while, watching her sleep. He smiled. Despite her adventuress spirit and life experiences, she was still quite a young girl with a romantic heart and that worried him. What worried him more was his own self. This particular incarnation was inclined to be a bit more romantic than some of his previous bodies. He tried to remain emotionally distant and disinterested in his young companion, but with Charley, it wasn't easy. She was sweet, funny, lovely and his best friend. He worried that in the end, he would only break her heart because he could never give her what she wanted. He couldn't be her Robin Hood.

He shook his head. Such thoughts, he chastised himself. He let go of her hand and left her room. He left the door partway open so he could hear her if she were to wake up and call for him. He went to his room and removed his clothes, still covered in dust, dirt and blood. He showered and dressed and returned to the console room. He climbed under the console and looked for something to do, anything to do. There wasn't much. The old girl was running quite well for the moment. He would leave well enough alone. He walked back through the corridors of his ship and into his room. From there, into another door. A door he hardly ever went into anymore. Inside the small, round room were several musical instruments, a music stand and a stack of sheet music. He picked up his violin and began to play. It had been a long time since he had played last. It felt good to play again. Music was such an amazing expression of emotion and provided a release from anxiety. He played for a long time.

When he was done, he went by Charley's room to check on her. She was awake and reading a book. He went in to see her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better now with a little sleep. Was that you?" she asked.

"Was what me?"

"That music, a violin. Was that you playing?"

The Doctor stammered a bit, "That room is sound proof. You shouldn't have been able to hear."

"Perhaps the TARDIS wanted to share the music with me. Was it you playing?"

"Yes," he answered. He checked on her IV. It was empty and ready to be taken out.

"You play beautifully. I didn't even know you could play the violin. Why have you never played for me before?"

"Oh, I don't know. I don't think about it very often and we seem to keep busy with adventures, so I just never get around to it." He took the tape off her arm. "This might sting," he said. He pulled the needle from her arm. "Alright?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you for taking that thing out. It was really bothering me. Can you help me sit up?"

He slipped an arm behind her shoulders and helped her. She gasped in pain. He felt pain too, in his shoulder. He forgot to use the other arm. He adjusted the pillows behind her, making her more comfortable.

"I saw that, you know," Charley said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your face just now. Your hurt, aren't you?"

"Sore shoulder, that's all."

"And I've seen you limping."

"Tripped once and fell on my knee."

"Is there anything I can do?" Charley asked with an expression of worry.

The Doctor chuckled. "Nothing Charley. I'm just bruised, that's it."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she started.

"You didn't. Don't worry yourself about me."

"But I do worry."

He backed away from her. His own emotions were getting to him and he would not allow that. "Can I get you anything? Food, tea, another book?"

"Tea would be lovely," Charley said. He moved to leave the room. "But Doctor, I don't want you to become my nurse or servant. You know you don't have to do anything for me."

"I can't leave you alone to starve in your room."

"You know what I mean."

"Listen to me, Charley. You're in a delicate condition right now. Along with your broken bones, you got a concussion. I don't want you doing anything more than necessary right now. The human brain is fragile and I want yours to have every chance to recover. So, for now, let me wait on you. Alright?"

"Yes, Doctor." She was moved by his compassion.

Several hours later, Charley asked to watch another movie, requesting Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

"Are you ready to be scared, Miss Pollard?" The Doctor asked as he inserted the movie into the player.

"I am, as long as you don't get too scared and ask me to hold you," she smirked at him. He laughed. "Besides Doctor, I've read the book. I know what's going to happen."

They ended sitting quite close to each other on Charley's bed, gripping each other's hands and laughing at their childishness when it was all over. Once again, after seeing Charley off to sleep, did he reprimand himself for getting to close to her. He cared for her and he knew she cared for him, although he wasn't sure how much. Perhaps if he acted oblivious to her feelings, she would be put off and not want to get more emotionally involved. He didn't want to hurt her, but he was in a real jam. If he acted disinterested, it would hurt her feelings. If he broke her heart down the road, it would hurt her feelings. Why did things have to be so complicated.

"Come on, Doctor," he said out loud to himself. "You're nine hundred something years old. You shouldn't be struggling with this. Get over it."

He spent Charley's sleeping hours doing various activities. First he tried jogging through the TARDIS corridors. Usually that helped him clear his head, but his knee was too sore to jog for long. He went to the pool and swam laps for a while, but his shoulder was too sore. Frustrated, he dried off and redressed. He went back to the console room, put on a record, and opened one of the books in the pile he had stacked next to his reading chair. He couldn't read. His mind raced too much. Finally he put the book down and fell asleep.

A nudge in his mind woke him up. He sat up on full alert, staring at the TARDIS console. All seemed to be well. The old girl was still in flight. Then he heard another noise, something crashed to the floor. He jumped up and ran to Charley's room. She was standing, hunched over, clinging onto her bed with her good arm.

"Charley!" he called and ran to her. He put his arm around her waist and helped her to sit down. "What are you trying to do?"

It took Charley several moments of deep breathing before he worst of the pain had passed and she was able to talk. "I was trying to walk."

"Why?"

Charley huffed. "Well, Doctor, if you must know, I'm trying to get to the ladies room."

"Oh, I see. Yes. Charley, you should have called me to help you."

"Doctor, I told you, I don't want to have you wait on me hand and foot. I want to take care of myself, thank you very much. Also, it didn't seem appropriate to have you take me to the ladies room. Plus, I'm still wearing only my slip!" Charley was as much annoyed as she was embarrassed.

"And I've told you Charley, that for a few days, until you can heal up a bit, I'm going to wait on you, hand and foot. And you shouldn't be embarrassed about having me help you get to the ladies room. I won't stay there with you."

"It's still not appropriate. Don't you have a cane or something else I can use?"

"A cane wouldn't be good support if you were to fall."

"Doctor, I've been walking for many years. I haven't forgotten how in the last two days."

"You're still early in your healing. You could easily lose your balance. Let me help you, Charlotte Pollard."

She glared at him. She didn't like it when he called her Charlotte. They were both being stubborn.

"Alright, alright. I would argue this more, but I really do need to get to the ladies room, so if you would, please help me to the door, I would be most grateful." She spoke in a strained politeness.

The Doctor stood up and gently placed one arm around her waist. With the other arm, he held it out for her to hold onto. With a grunt she stood up. She stood quite still for several seconds, allowing her body to become accustomed to being completely vertical. She shuffled to the bathroom door and stopped, demanding the Doctor to leave. He let go of her and closed the door behind her.

He didn't blame her for being upset, but really, why couldn't she swallow her pride and allow him to help her without a fight? He chuckled to himself. What if the situation was reversed? He knew he would be putting up a fight, too. They were too much alike in many ways. He had an idea, so he ran to the medical room and grabbed a wheelchair and then pushed it into Charley's room. She was just opening the door from the restroom when he returned.

"An invalid chair? Really Doctor?"

"Well, I thought you might be tired of being in your room. I can take you to the console room, or the library, or the butterfly room. Where ever you want to go."

"It would be nice to be out of this room for a little while, but Doctor, I'm still in my slip. Could you please open my wardrobe and get me a robe?" Her voice still came as a strained politeness.

He found her robe and helped her into it, except for her broken arm. She couldn't get it into the robe just yet. He helped her into the chair, got a shawl from the wardrobe and draped it around her shoulders, hiding the arm that the robe could not cover.

"Alright?"

"Better," she said, adjusting the shawl, "but I'm hurting again."

He pushed her into the medical room. "I've got something that will help with the pain."

"No, Doctor, you don't have too. I don't want to go back to sleep. Not yet."

"Don't worry, this won't make you sleepy, it will just help with the pain." He gave her a pill and a glass of water. After she swallowed it, he pushed her out into the corridor. "Where to Charley?"

"The butterfly room, please."

"Right you are." He pushed her along the halls until they arrived at Charley's favorite room. The ceiling looked like the sky and was a bright blue. Butterflies of every shape, size and color flew about.

"Oh, I do love it here," Charley sighed.

The Doctor sat down on the ground next to Charley's chair. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but thought better of that. No need to encourage anything. They sat in a comfortable silence, watching the butterflies. A large blue one landed on Charley's knee. They watched it until it flew away several minutes later.

"If I'm keeping you from something important, you don't have to stay. You can leave me here. I'll be fine." Charley looked down to where he sat.

His eyes met hers. "You're not keeping me from anything important. I don't often come into this room. It's nice to be here. It's nice to be in good company."

Charley smiled and he turned away from her gaze to look at another butterfly that had come quite close to him.

"How long is it going to take me to heal?"

"Couple of weeks, I imagine."

"A couple of weeks? How will I survive? How will you survive? You can't stand to be stuck in the TARDIS for very long before you develop cabin fever. I'm actually surprised you haven't gone out and had several adventures already."

"Well, I couldn't leave you alone could I? And besides, how do you know that I haven't already had several universe shattering adventures while you've slept?"

Charley smiled. Her face slowly changed to a look of concern. "I'm quite serious Doctor. If you want, you can drop me off on Earth or some hospital somewhere and let me heal. You can dematerialize, change your coordinates to four weeks later and rematerialize immediately. I would be healed and you wouldn't have lost but a few moments of time. We'd be ready for the next adventure.

"Charley, I couldn't do that. I couldn't leave you to heal on your own, on a slow linear path, just so I can speed up my time and not have to wait. I'm not that selfish."

"I didn't say you were selfish. I'm just suggesting that," Charley began.

"No Charley. I would never do that. Now, I don't want to hear you suggest anything like that ever again. Do you understand?"

Charley sighed. "Yes, Doctor."

The Doctor was upset with Charley. He was upset with himself. Did he make himself seem that he was that selfish? He didn't think so. He knew Charley was only thinking of him and trying to be as helpful and selfless as she could be and for that he was appreciative, but he wasn't going to abandon her like that. He also knew, deep in his hearts, if he ever did leave her like that, it was very likely he would never go back. He cared too much for her. He would use it as a chance to escape and give her a chance at a normal life. Sure, she would be hurt and then be angry at him, but at least she could live the kind of life she deserved - a good husband, a lovely home, children... all the things he couldn't provide for her. No, if he left her, he would never go back and right now, he didn't want to be without her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, dear Charley. You were only thinking of me." He got up onto his knees and knelt in front of her so he could be eye to eye with her. "Listen to me, Miss Charley Pollard, I thought you had died in the quake. I had to unbury you from all that rubble. Even after bringing you here and patching up your injuries, I was still afraid I might lose you. I was afraid you would die and I couldn't bear the thought of that happening. Sometime in the future, when we finally say our goodbyes, I," he choked. "I don't want to say goodbye to your dead body. So for now, I keep you close and make sure you heal. Then, we can go on our next adventure, or if you are ready to go home, we can say our goodbyes. Properly, face to face."

"I don't want to say goodbye," Charley whispered. A sob choked in her throat and kept her from speaking.

Against all his better judgment, the Doctor reached out and took Charley's hand in his. He held it tightly, almost afraid to let go. "I can never be what you want, so let me be your friend."

"You are exactly what I want," Charley gave his hand a squeeze. "You are my best friend."

The Doctor smiled. He kissed Charley's hand. "Thank you." They sat together, hand in hand and watched the butterflies.


End file.
